News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1887-11-03
MISS FINCHS EXPERIMENT.
BY W. II. w. CAMPBELL.

BY W. Ii. W. CAMPBEl4L.
Eleven o'clock of a summer forenoon.
in the sanctum of the Sdndaoich Morning
Bugle. The chief was seated at his table,
Juggling at his mustache, and ever and
anon languidly marking a paragraph in
the newspaper which lay open before
him.
He was cleaning from the issue of that
morning for the weekly edition-the
Clarion, with "the largest circulation in
the States"
1t was his habit to visit the office in
the forenoon for this purpose; also to
take note of the delinquencies of the
foreman and the night editor; to look
over the morning mail, and to lay out
the programme of the day.
1t was evident, however, that on this
occasion something was on the editors
mind aside from the quality and availa-
bil1ty of the paragraphs he was marking.
And in fact, the very day before, his most
useful assistant had left him to ''accept
aposition, as the personal item column
announced, on the Boston Hiqhfyer.
This change had been anticipated and
was not regretted, for it was the
pride of the chief to train up promising
young journalists to an excellence which
brought them into demand, and then
wish them God-speed to more conspic-
uous and lucrative posts. Yet the va
cancy was to be filled, and perhaps this
consideration accounted for the vigorous
pulls at the chiefs moustache, the occa-
sional pauses in the dabs of the blue
pencil, aid the nervous slaps at vagrant
water-bugs.
A firm, but gentle, tapping at the sane
tum door.
"Come in" cried the chief, without
looking up.
A young lady briskly entered the ROOM
Petite she was, with small, regular
features, inquisitive gray eyes, and cheeks
hanging out rosy signals of agitation. A
close-fitting black velvet basque set off
trim and shapely figure; plain black
skirt and neglige straw hat completing
the costume. She might have been
twenty-five, though her fresh face and
slender figure gave her more youthful
appearance.
Good morning, Mr.. Russell, " she said,
advancing with resolute air to the edi-
tors table,
''Ah, good morning." echoed the
chief, raising his eyes inquiringly.
81 have come to see if you will give
me position on your paper"
The chief dropped his pencil. Here
was an event pumped headlong into the
current of his meditations
"Will you be seated, Miss" he
remarked.
Julia Finch, " she interjected. 'Iam
q daughter of Thomas Finch, of Ayres-
town. You know of him, think.
Eyes. never met him, but-and so
sou want to try your hand on a news
paper. Had any experienced"
mo, sir. What would be required of
me?"
''Written any?'
"a little, just by way of practice"
published anything2n
FNo, sir"
"Well, 1 hardly know. The force is
short just now, and it's an easy time of
year. l have thought l would like to
try woman on the staff"
All the time the chief was sharply
scanning the candidate beneath his eye
brOws. There was an air of determine
ton and energy about her that pleased
him. He was not a man to tolerate
drones ON the editorial force of the |
Bugle.
Il believe l will venture the expert
ment for a month" he added, after his
inspection of the candidate was ended.
A CLEAN of satisfaction flashed in the
inquisitive gray eyes.
"What shall have to do9" the young
lady inquired.
81 think l will let you go through the
exchanges, and make up the news and
miscellany. You might give special at
tention to such matters as interest wo-
men,"
"What are you going to pay met"
''Seven dollars a week will be about
right, Think
''What would you give a man in the
same position?"
''Ten dollars, probably"
''Why do you make that differencew
"You cannot be expected to do night
work, and there are some places where
can send male reporter but not wo-
man. l think seven dollars week is all
you can earn at present"
''Oh"
The engagement was ratified, and the
chief, after finishing the editing of his
weekly, departed in seUrch of boarding
place for his new assistant. Two DAYS
in the Btgle sapctum.
There was only single room for the
editorial force, nailed off at one end, and
provided with four desks and tables
The new coad jutOr sat on one side of the
room, with her back to the Others The
chiefs position was such that he could (
observe her.
When Miss Finch entered the office TO
begin her duties, the ''Local" was perched .
at his desk, having strolled in during
the leisure of the forenoon to refresh his .
mind by practice on his banjo.
At sight of this apparition he hastily
removed his hat, and laid his pipe and
instrument upon the table A vibrating
leg was also lifted from the arm of his
chair, and he rose to his feet.
beg pardon, Miss. What can I do
for you?'
lam to occupy this DESK" Miss Julia
responded with a flush. Mr.. Russell has
engaged me. Are you one of the force?n
The establishment depicted upon the .
Locals countenance it would be difficult
to describe
''Ahl indeed, he murmured-he was
gallant young fclIow-''very happy.
I'm sure. Pm the city editor; here's my
card. hope you'll be comfortable here;
sorry there isn't a separate room for you.
Do you mind smokingf'
Julia replied that she supposed she
could put up with it if it was essential to
the evolution of daily journal Where
upon the Local excused himself with
some perturbation and fled with pipe and
banjo to the composing room. There he
held an animated conference with the
foreman. The slide which, for pupose
of copy" gave access to the sanctum,
was soon cautiously moved, while several
pairs of eyes in succession eagerly took
notes of the new member of the corps.
1t was the general conviction in the
composing room that the chief must be
''cracked, and the Local gave vent to
his agony by executing Poor Old Joe''
with great vehemence on his banjo.
During the next few days the sanctum
was the scene of various amusing cpl
sodes. One by one, on different occa-
sions, the familiars of the office came
tearing in without the formality of
knocking, bursting full of some piece of
news, which they began to bawl out be-
fore getting fairly inside. The conster-
nation with which these visitors pulled
up and lapsed into silence, occs stoned
many mirthful twitch at the editorial
moustache, and even gave rise to a sus-
picious shaking of the trim shoulders at